Everyone was Kung Fu Fighting
by Parsat
Summary: An anthology of Trauma Center oneshots. Violence is not the answer, but it sure is freakin' funny.
1. Aikido

_Being the noob here, I didn't really know what to write about until I came up with a sudden inspiration for a series of oneshots of people hitting other. I don't know anything about aikido, so pardon me if I have some factual errors in this. This first chapter is some Derek/Angie fluff, I know how you guys love this stuff._

_Oh yeah, Atlus owns Trauma Center and its characters, (for now…) and Global Film Enterprises owns 3 Ninjas._

* * *

**Aikido**

Every two weeks or so, Angie Thompson went to her local dojo to practice aikido, a hobby she pursued since she was a child. It all started when she was nine. Her mother had rented a DVD for her.

"My favorite character was Tum Tum!" said the little blond girl to her mother.

"Oh really?" said her mother as she pressed the "eject" button on the DVD machine and put the disk back into its _3 Ninjas_ box.

"Do you really think I can be a ninja when I grow up?"

"Maybe, but for now you need to 'ninja' your way to bed. It's 8:30 now, and you have to go to school tomorrow."

"Can I learn to be a ninja, Mom?"

"Time for bed, Angie."

All that week, Angie pestered her mother to take "ninja" lessons. Figuring it was only a phase she was going through, she signed her up for aikido class. She didn't count on her daughter's fighting spirit though, nor did she count on the fact that her daughter, like her gone husband, was quite precocious. She quickly learned the various grapples and strikes, much to her mother's surprise. She hadn't expected Angie to become so tomboyish.

One night, Angie's mother was awakened by what sounded like a scuffle in her daughter's room. Quickly getting out of bed, she quietly walked to Angie's bedroom, and surreptitiously opened the door a small crack. Angie had arranged her teddy bears into a pile, and her mother watched as Angie took a large teddy, grappling it by the arms, then turning around and throwing it over herself, using her hips as a center of gravity. _Koshinage_ would become her signature move in the years to come.

As she grew up, she still continued to train, but she kept it a secret from her friends. Even though she had a full scholarship throughout college, she earned money by becoming an aikido instructor at a nearby aikido school for kids. At least it was better that working at McDonalds.

On this particular day, Angie was bringing her boyfriend, Derek Stiles, along to watch. Derek liked to accompany Angie to the dojo, partly because he wanted to spend more time with her, partly because nothing good was on TV, and partly because there was something inherently cute about watching a slim blond woman tossing around buff martial arts practitioners.

After they were done for the day at Caduceus, Derek drove Angie to the dojo, a five minute ride. The dojo was white and clean as a hospital, save for the floor, which was largely covered by a blue mat. Angie changed into her aikidogi in the changing room, and then met with the owner of the dojo, an elderly Japanese man by the name of Matsumoto.

"Ah, Thompson-san. Back again?"

"Yes, Matsumoto-sensei."

"Good! Let's practice!"

Derek watched as the elderly man and Angie practiced. It seemed they had practiced what to do before hand, because they smoothly transitioned from one grapple to the next. Much of the time, Angie practiced on the offensive side, but sometimes they would switch and Matsumoto-sensei would be the one on the offensive. He marveled at how much strength and vigor was in the man; he had to be in his 60s, but he was as agile as if he was as old as Derek himself. Finally, they stopped and then bowed to each other. Then Matsumoto called over a bulky man. "Jeremy, you complained about not having anyone to practice with. Come practice with Thompson-san."

Derek wondered why Matsumoto had a slight tone of anger in his voice, and why he didn't append any honorifics to Jeremy's last name. He felt like asking Mr. Matsumoto as he sat down next to him, but the man knew what he was thinking.

"Your girlfriend is a wonderful instructor when it comes to humility," he whispered into Derek's ear.

Jeremy lumbered over, then without warning he made a punch at Angie. Luckily for her, she dodged it and grabbed his arm. The man was visibly annoyed and aggressively attacked Angie. It almost seemed like he wanted to beat her down.

Derek wanted to get up and intervene, but then he saw the fire of wrath in Angie's eyes, and he knew she was all right. When Angie got mad, God help whoever she raged against. With surprising strength, Angie grabbed Jeremy, then pivoted, bending at the waist and tossing him over her head. Two hundred pounds of muscle slammed onto the floor with a resounding boom. Angie paused for a second to catch her breath, then went to the changing room to change back into her normal outfit.

"He was being a big jerk, wasn't he?" asked Derek as they stepped out into the night.

"It's just one of those testosterone-flooded macho men who think they can beat anybody. I just love their reactions when they find themselves beaten by a girl."

"Thankfully my girlfriend is a ninja," laughed Derek as Angie smiled, remembering when she pestered her mother into giving her aikido lessons. All of a sudden, they heard a roar of anger. It was Jeremy, charging towards them, ready to beat the two of them up and avenge his shattered pride. Derek tackled Angie out of the way, and Jeremy, seeing that his targets had moved away, tried to put on the brakes. Either he was too slow in slowing down, or his motor functions had been affected by the fall as well as his pride, because he slammed headfirst into a pillar, head and metal connecting in a loud clang. He reeled, then collapsed, knocked out cold.

Derek had tackled Angie over against a wall, his body shielding hers in a protective embrace. He looked over his shoulder to see Jeremy sprawled on the ground, a big fat red bump on his forehead.

"Serves him right," said Derek, bending down to examine the unconscious man.

"Damn. As if his head wasn't already swollen."

* * *

_Random, no? Ah, well. You get what you pay for (or didn't pay for). Please review._

* * *


	2. Chess Boxing

_Before you read this, yes, people do play chess boxing and do world championships. Not really something you'd see on ESPN, and not something I've tried, although I'd like to. Who, you might ask, would play this hybrid of brains and brawn? The Kasal twins, of course!_

_Atlus owns Greg, Sidney, and Cybil; Parker Brothers own Sorry! and Risk; Hasbro owns Battleship, Scrabble, Jenga, and Yahtzee._

* * *

**Chess Boxing**

Sidney Kasal was a man of both ritual and competition, and one of the ways he satisfied both attributes was by going to his twin Greg's house for game night.

It started after the death of his wife, an event that drove him to severe depression. For months, he lay in his bed, made for two people, wishing that she was by his side again. And although Greg loved to tick Sidney off with a good prank, he couldn't bear to see his other self depressed like that.

"How do you think we could cheer him up?" Greg asked his fiancée, Cybil Myers.

"Hmm…maybe you could invite him to play his favorite game."

And so, that Saturday, they invited Sidney over to their house to play his favorite game, Sorry!, the Game of Sweet Revenge. And for the first time in 3 months, Sidney felt his depression and his anxiety melt away as he foiled his brother's attempts to proceed with his unusual luck in drawing Sorry cards. From that point on, he went to Greg's house every Saturday to play some games. After a year, they had played quite a number of games: chess, checkers, poker, Risk, Yahtzee, Scrabble, Battleship… The two, competitive as they were, kept a whiteboard where they tallied each other's victories. Interestingly enough, whenever Cybil joined along, she would always win. Greg and Sidney were always too busy tearing at each other's throats to notice that she was really close to winning until it was too late.

After they had exhausted their stock of games, they moved on to playing different variants of them. Now, instead of regular Jenga, they would play it blindfolded, or standing upside down on their heads, or blindfolded and standing upside down on their heads. They also branched out into random competitions, such as pie-eating and push-up competitions. These usually ended with them having terrible stomach cramps and joint pain, as well as a "You Kasal men" from Cybil.

As Sidney stepped up to the door of Greg and Cybil's home, he remembered their last competition: a sit-up contest. At the end, Greg, who had been more athletic than Sidney, managed to gain a victory, but at a cost. Both of them ended up being unable to get up after 500 situps, spines and abs on fire. Cybil had to give them Tylenols while they were still prone on the floor.

This time, it was Greg's turn to choose what they were doing tonight. He secretly hoped it was something that wouldn't end up with both of them in pain.

"So wait, remind me what we're doing again?" said Sidney as he put on a protective helmet.

"We're doing chess boxing, the perfect mix of brains and brawn. After all, you've always been better than me at chess, and I've always bested you in a fistfight," smiled Greg, ready to take his brother down in a good bout of fisticuffs.

"So not true. What do you call the last time I punched you in the nose and knocked you out?"

"First, I wasn't knocked out. Second, I'd call that a nosebleed. And third, I returned the favor with a beefsteak to the eye."

Cybil came in, with two pairs of boxing gloves, one pair red and another blue. "Alright," she said, "I'll be the referee, and I promise you, I'll be siding against Greg on this one," smirking as her husband gave her an evil eye.

"We'll be starting with chess, then boxing. Each round of chess will be 4 minutes long, and each round of boxing 2 minutes long. You each have 30 seconds to put on your boxing gloves and take them off at the end of each round."

Sidney and Greg sat in front of the chess board, with the former commanding the white army, and the latter leading the black forces.

"Ready, get set, go!"

Sidney quickly got into gear, moving his pieces in the way he usually did. Although he was better than Greg at chess, Greg was not stupid, and they knew each other like the back of their hand. Just as Sidney castled his king and rook, Cybil announced that it was time for a scuffle. Sidney put on his red gloves and faced Greg in what would be a pain-ridden match.

They circled each other in their makeshift ring, throwing a few jabs around. Then Greg started launching an assault, hitting Sidney on his helmet to disorient him, then punching him in the stomach, ending with a final jab to the nose. Blood began to pour from Sidney's left nostril, and he tasted the blood running down to his mouth.

"Son of a—"

Sidney was now enraged, and started his own attack. Although Greg fought back and defended himself well, he ended up with a pounding pain on his side, a sore jaw from an uppercut on the chin, and a black left eye. They were about to smother each other when Cybil called time. They stripped off their boxing gloves, both eying each other with rage. Sidney stuffed a cotton ball up his bleeding nostril, while Greg put an icepack on his swollen blue eye.

The next round of chess, Cybil noted, was played rather randomly. Both the Kasals were still shaken up from the hits they had received, and she could see a dozen openings that they had missed. Sidney, who had been hit in the head numerous times, was quite woozy and had some difficulty keeping his head up, while Greg, with one eye out of commission, had lost all depth perception. Before they knew it, the second round of boxing had come.

This time, they savagely slapped on their gloves and basically threw themselves at each other. Cybil had only seen a few fights more savage than these, and that was only because she had seen gang warfare as a police officer. She had to pry the two apart, and she gasped when she saw how badly bruised they were. Sidney's left nostril was bleeding, his T-shirt was slightly torn, revealing several cuts and bruises, and his face resembled a bruised plum; Greg's lip was cut, his jaw slightly off-center, and his face was no better than Sidney's. Despite the pain, Greg chuckled as he saw Sidney, both nostrils plugged with cotton balls, face covered with bruises.

As they sat down in front of the chess board, Cybil could see that both were having a very hard time concentrating, with the head hits that they had received. The game had finally come to a point where there was a checkmate so obvious that even Sidney and Greg, in their dizziness, could detect. Sidney picked up his bishop, ready to deliver the checkmate, when he couldn't take it anymore. He fell face first into the chess board, knocking over his king, unconscious. Greg was swaying as if drunk, but he managed to let out a "Yes! You forfeit! I win!" before he collapsed, head on the table, next to Sidney.

Cybil sighed as she plopped the two onto the bed. Those Kasal men…

* * *

_Monday_

Victor walked down the hallway of Caduceus USA, still reading the lab report he was carrying when he bumped into a man wearing a balaclava. He recognized the man by his physique and smirked.

"I know you can't stand the cold air conditioner, Sidney, but this is ridiculous."

"Not a word, Niguel, or else you get fired faster than you can say 'checkmate.'"

* * *

_Those Kasal men…although I've gotten hit as hard by my sibling in a fight, I daresay. I've never tried chess boxing, but now that I think about it, it'll be some sweet revenge. :D_


	3. Pie in the Face

**Pie in the Face  
**

_Beep beep. Beep beep._

"Ugghh," groaned Derek, as he punched his alarm clock to death.

"Stop pounding on it, Derek, or else you'll break your clock like you did last week," mumbled Angie next to him.

Now that the clock was silent, Derek rolled over, kissing his wife on the forehead. Feeling a little more energized, he got up, walking towards the bathroom. En route, he glanced at the calendar, only to stop suddenly.

"Dammit!"

"What's the matter?" inquired Angie, suddenly sitting up.

"It's April First, and you know what that means…"

* * *

_Victor pulled up in the Caduceus parking lot, noticing with some surprise Tyler's Chevy Tahoe in the lot. Victor found it odd, but then again, Tyler was a very odd person. As long as he didn't interfere with the important experiment he had to perform, Tyler would remain in one piece. When Victor entered the building, however, he saw his blond archenemy, holding his lab coat._

"_How's my favorite grouch today?" he asked in a singsong voice._

"_Dammit, Chase, get your ass off my fucking lab coat!" Victor grabbed his lab coat from Tyler's hands, who merely smiled and then skipped down the hall. _

_Son of a bitch, he thought as he put on his lab coat, opening the door to his lab. He then prepared his lab experiment, heating up various chemicals and pouring others into beakers. Just as he was about to pour some hydrochloric acid into a test tube, he noticed a small itching sensation on his. As he scratched it, the sensation disappeared, only to be replaced by two more itches on his back. He put down his test tube and started to scratch. The itches became more intense and numerous until Victor couldn't stand it. He ripped off his white coat, ran out of his lab, clawing himself as if he had a hornet's nest under his shirt. Crazily scratching himself, he collided into Sidney._

"_Getting some early morning exercise, Niguel?"_

"_I'll deal with you as soon as I get this itching powder off my damn skin. Where's that son of a bitch?!" _

_Both failed to notice a certain blond man, hiding behind a potted tree, trying not to explode laughing. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful, and he ran down the hall into his office, exploding with laughter._

_Later that morning, Derek stumbled into his, groggy from a late night date with Angie. As usual, Angie was punctual, although he could see that she was a little drowsy._

"_I got you some coffee from the lounge," she said, pointing to the steaming cup of coffee lying on Derek's desk. Derek had intended to give her a proper thank-you after a giant swig of his coffee, but instead rattled off a stream of profanities after spewing the coffee out of his mouth._

"_What's the matter?"_

"_Did…ack…you put salt in my coffee?!" sputtered Derek._

_Before Angie could reply, they heard a scream coming from the office next door._

"_Tyler, you son of a bitch, you put __**salt**__ in my coffee!" screeched Leslie._

_Later that day, Angie had been extra cautious about touching anything she thought that Tyler might have touched. Not having touched coffee all day, though, she fell asleep amongst her paperwork. She dreamed about her first date with Derek, and how she had kissed him, embracing him, staring into his brown eyes…_

"_AHOOGA!"_

_Angie's head quickly shot up, only to collide with the short table that Tyler had placed over her head. She staggered up to give Tyler hell, but the only part left of him in the room was his hysterical laughter._

_Meanwhile, Sidney had been extra cautious about everything that he did after seeing Victor lying on a hospital bed, arms tied to prevent him flaying himself alive. Luckily, a life living with Greg had given him powers of prank-detection, he thought. The phone on his desk rang, and he picked it up, leaning casually as he said "Hello." All of a sudden, his large chair fell apart, pitching backwards, and his head slammed into the ground. Out of the earpiece, he could hear Tyler, laughing his guts out, shouting April Fools. Sidney groaned as he stood up and saw the mess he made. Paper flying everywhere, his desk upturned, his Diet Coke staining his shirt, Sidney was just this close to firing Tyler and turning his car into a bonfire._

_Tyler was chased by an angry mob of Caduceus employees late that day, but he managed to drive his Chevy Tahoe and barricade his apartment fast enough to avoid their wrath._

* * *

Everyone was unusually tense at Caduceus. Although Tyler had not arrived early, everyone was extra-paranoid about their surroundings. Derek and Leslie tasted their coffee before drinking it, Sidney carefully examined the screws on his chair, Angie popped a caffeine pill, and Victor made sure to bring a lab coat from his own home. They eyed Tyler cautiously, but he would not say anything. He was much too quiet today. He did, however, tell his colleagues to go to the cafeteria at lunch. Seeing that something was up, they went.

Tyler sat at a table with a big white box in front of him. Derek sat next to him, followed by Angie. Across from them were Sidney, Leslie, and Victor, who for the first time in his life was actually curious about what strange disease had caused Tyler to shut up.

"Okay, guys, I called you here because I officially renounce my jokester reputation. From now, I'll be a serious surgeon. So, to commemorate this event, I bought you all some lunch." He opened his box a tiny crack, then took out a white thing, hurling it at Derek's face and shouting jubilantly, "Just kidding! April Fools!"

Unfortunately for Tyler, Derek had ducked as soon as he heard "kidding," and the pie smashed into Angie's face, covering it with white custard. The cafeteria went deathly silent as Angie skimmed the cream off her face, revealing a pair of venomous green eyes, boring into Tyler.

"I-I—uh—it was a joke, A-Angie! I'm s-sorry!" stammered Tyler, but Angie pounced at him, grabbing two pies from the box and chasing him around the cafeteria.

"Payback time," Victor cackled, as he passed a pie to Derek, Sidney, and Leslie. They then ran in Tyler's way to get some sweet, sweet revenge. Angie turned to corner Tyler into the pronged formation that the other four had formed. At that moment, she threw her first pie, which swooped low and caught Tyler on the butt. Victor hurled his at Tyler, narrowly missing his face and hitting him in the chest. It was Derek that managed to catch him in the face. Tyler stopped right in front of Leslie, clawing out the cream from his eyes. Just as she reared back to smother his face in pie, he grabbed her arms, forcing the pie into her own face. Leslie gasped at first, but then she thought of a way she could get Tyler to stand still.

Just as he was about to go on the run again, she grabbed his neck, pulling him back and giving him a big kiss, smearing custard over both their faces. Although he struggled initially, she held on to him, freezing him on the spot long enough for the others to pelt Tyler with the rest of the pies that he had brought. Finally when the last pie had whacked him in the back of the head, he managed to tear himself away, running out the door, covered in white cream from head to toe, like an abominable snowman.

Though the incident didn't make Tyler any less mischievous in the long run, everyone in Caduceus was glad that he finally got a taste of his own medicine.

* * *

**Note: After finding some vandalism involving the chicken dance put in by my sister, I've edited it accordingly. I will try to be more careful with my submissions next time. 8/11**

**As they say, what comes around goes around. I apologize up front for any double entendres this story might have, if you're sick-minded, I think you know what I mean. By the way, in this chapter there are two homages to two fanfics here, namely turning someone's car into a bonfire and the fact that Tyler drives a Chevy Tahoe. Bonus points to you if you can identify the allusions.  
**

**The pranks mentioned in this story are only for the sake of this story, and should not be attempted at home, school, hospital, etc. I do not accept any responsibility for any injuries, damage of property, broken relationships, or psychological damage attempting these pranks may have caused.**

**Trauma Center and all characters here are owned by Atlus, the think tank of geniuses. All bow down and worship the wonder that is Trauma Center.**


	4. Fantasy

**Before I begin, I'd like to say that I didn't mean to dream this. I tend to dream my stories, and this one was so bizarre that I had to write it out. I changed the ending slightly, but the meat of the story is straight from the head. Maybe I should lay off on the caffeine just before bedtime.**

**Fantasy**

Tyler never handled the nightshift paperwork well. Surgeries he could focus on just as acutely as he would in the daytime, but he always swore that someone had drugged his papers. Combined with the late hours of the night shift, and it was no surprise that at the moment Dr. Chase was catching some 40 winks. He did not notice the dark figure quietly entering his office and turning off the lights. The figure quietly moved over to the snoring doctor. She wore a sort of sexy, dark smile as she took out her weapon. With a quick snap of the wrist, the whip hit Chase square in the back, instantly waking him up.

"Aargh! I'm awake, I'm awake, I'm—"

Tyler froze, his eyes bulging out of his sockets. His mouth moved, but no sounds or noises came out. One part of him thought that this was seriously messed up, while the other part of him thought that this was freaking awesome. It was a woman with short hair and pale skin that contrasted with the tight skimpy black leather that barely covered her body. She wore high heeled boots, a black miniskirt, and something leather covering her chest that would be impossible to describe with words.

"Le—Leslie?"

"You've been a naughty boy, Dr. Chase. Sleeping on your paperwork…annoying your coworkers…I think it's time you got a little _time-out_ here…"

Tyler turned pale as he saw the whip in her hand. He couldn't believe, out of all people, that his cheerful bubbly fiancée had such a dark side to her. Of course he, the resident pervert, had fantasized about something like this, but he had never even considered it remotely possible.

"Stand up."

Her voice was not her usual high, cute voice. It was low, seductive yet domineering, powerful, deadly, and irresistible all the same.

"Wha—What?" stammered the doctor.

"You heard me, Dr. Chase. Stand up."

Tyler stood up, facing her.

"Now turn around."

Tyler obediently did what he was told.

Teasingly, the next command came. "You might want to brace onto that table."

He held on to the table, and all of a sudden, there was a dull whap. The whip had collided onto the flesh of Tyler's back. Tyler flinched, biting his lip. There was something so strangely erotic about this, but at the same time it was terrifying.

"Have you been a bad boy, Tyler?"

_Whap._

"Ow! Yes, I have."

"Are you sorry for sleeping on your paperwork?"

_Whap_. The power of each hit was getting stronger.

"Yeah—ow! I'm sorry, Les, maybe we should stop this?"

"Don't talk back to me," Leslie replied in a smooth voice that flowed like poisoned honey, "You get another whipping for that."

_Whap._

This was starting to get really fucking creepy.

"Let's start over again, shall we? This time, you'd better be really sorry. Are you sorry for sleeping while doing your paperwork?"

_Whap._

"Yes! I have! Please! That hurts!"

"Oh no, Dr. Chase. I can't spoil you. You're going to have to be taught a good lesson, you naughty, naughty boy."

_Whap. Whap_.

"You are so naughty, you know that?"

_Whap. Whap._

"Disregarding your paperwork and delaying your patients."

_Whap. Whap. Whap._

"So inconsiderate. So selfish."

_Whap. Whap. Whap._

"But you know what?"

_Whap_.

Leslie walked around the desk, looking straight into Tyler's eyes. Her eyes, usually a mellow, welcoming hazel, were instead a hard brown color.

"They say pain makes gain, and you're going to be a rich man tonight."

She went around again, starting to whip faster and harder. Tyler was biting his lip, but the pain was so great. His eyes started to tear. But the pain was something exquisite, and Tyler actually started to find himself seeking it… The whaps started to increase in intensity, until it got to the point where the pain almost made him black out.

"Stop," he whispered hoarsely. "Stop."

And for the first time, Leslie was starting to get a little pissed. "Stop? Stop the punishment you deserve? You have no idea what's good for you, do you now?" And she started to whip him even harder, until he started to cry out, "Okay, okay! I'll stop sleeping during my paperwork!"

* * *

"Okay, okay, I'll stop sleeping during my paperwork!"

Tyler jumped up with a start, noting with relief that his office was still as bright as it was, and that there was no sight of leather. He shuddered, then focused deeply on his paperwork for the first time, not even daring to close his eyes for half a second. Who would have thought that a man not even cowed by the fearsome Angie would be tamed by his own twisted fantasy? When his shift finally ended, he drove back home and immediately fell asleep on his bed with his uniform still on to a more peaceful sleep. Tyler did keep his word, for he never fell asleep during his paper work, ever.

If he was a little more observant of his surroundings, though, he might have noticed the giggles that came outside through the shut door after he resumed his paper work.

"So in college, when Tyler and I were roommates at UCLA, there was a big earthquake, right? Everybody in the dorm was up and around except for Tyler, who was sleeping like a log. So that's how we figured out that Tyler was basically like a corpse when he slept. We pretty much did every practical joke in the book with him while he was sleeping."

"I can't believe he didn't even feel the rubber bands we snapped at him."

"Still, did you hear what he was starting to whine when we were snapping him?"

"Tyler's mouth moves even when he's sleeping. Sometimes he says some pretty damn weird things."

"That was actually pretty fun, taking it out on him. Maybe we'll do it when he sleeps on his paper work again."

Derek, Angie, and Leslie shared a collective giggle, ignorant of the fact that the "next time" would never come again.

* * *

**And here we are. I haven't updated this story in a long time, so it was nice to do that. See you guys next time, I've got some more dreams to be recording! Hope you liked this incredibly bizarre and somewhat sick chapter!  
**


	5. Self Defense

**You know what I realized? It's been forever since I've updated this story. Well, it was my first after all. Life goes on, I guess. This one is kind of surreal, but at the same time, not too much. It's also a first: For once, you get to see angsty Tyler! Might be breaking form, but I'll leave it to you whether it was successful or not.**

* * *

**Self-Defense**

Derek opened the door to the workroom to find, for once, that Tyler was actually there. Not only was he there, he was working too.

"Well! Never thought I would see the day," Derek exclaimed as he walked over to Tyler's desk.

"Today I actually want to get some work done. Gotta get going later today."

"Something with Leslie?"

"She's enrolling in a Krav Maga course. Women's self-defense, you know? I was like, 'Why the heck would you need self-defense when you've got a buff guy around you at all times?'"

If Derek had been drinking something at that time, he surely would have sprayed it out. Derek almost wished he did, because he was laughing so hard that he was starting to snort. Tyler looked a bit nonplussed.

"What? Just because I'm not all going bench-pressing and kickboxing like you, doesn't mean I can't hold my own against you!"

He made some fisticuff motions, before recognizing Derek's mischievous smirk.

"Err…how much do you bench, exactly?"

"Around 120 kilos right now. Not a whole lot, actually."

Tyler's eyes widened. "You serious man?" He punched Derek in the shoulder and felt that it was especially hard…a lot bigger than he remembered. "Whatever happened to awkward scrawny Derek?"

"Awkward scrawny Derek decided to work out with less awkward scrawny Kasal twins. Much improvement was had," replied Derek in the most tongue-in-cheek tone he could manage. "Seriously, you should try it. Pain is good."

* * *

**Later…**

Tyler walked down the hall, muttering to himself. "Pain is good…man, can't believe even my buddy turned into Mr. Olympia."

He passed by the door to Victor's lab in the Research Wing, but stopped and backpedaled.

"At least good ol' Victor is a weakling like me. Heh, let's see what he's up to."

The lab door was newly equipped with a key pad, making the old spontaneous visits a lot more difficult now. Nowadays he was at the mercy of Victor's mood if he even wanted to get in, and knowing Victor's mood, it wasn't often. Tyler did a quick calculation: He had last tried to visit Victor two and a half weeks ago. Hopefully the probability was in his favor this time.

He knocked at the door. No reply. He knocked again.

"Goddamn it, Tyler, go away!"

"You sure? Don't you miss me?"

A long pause. Tyler waited, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Victor would open up. Sure enough he did.

"I'm sorry, Tyler. I really have missed you. It's been what, two and a half weeks? Come in. And shut that door."

Victor had the oddest smile on his face when he opened that door. It reached levels of creep even for Victor. At least the door was open to him. Tyler stepped In and closed the door.

"Tyler, do you know what it means when I say 'go away'?"

"It means you're a grouch who needs some human contact?"

"WRONG. It means that I want to be left _alone_. But you know, I'd actually like you here for a little…experiment."

The creepy smile returned again, but this time he showed his teeth.

_Oh God…_

With a flash Victor lunged and Tyler felt an unusual pain shoot up through his elbow, and then another hit on the collarbone made him fall to his knees. It was then that Tyler saw the book lying on a chair: _Secret Pressure Points_.

"I like you a lot, Tyler, more than I act at least, but sometimes you need to be taught a lesson. As it happens, I've got to come up with the results of a particularly vital experiment in less than 24 hours, so I must _emphatically_ tell you to GET OUT."

* * *

Tyler was nursing his wounds in the lounge when Cybil walked in.

"Why the long face, Tyler?" Cybil asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Oh man, you're the last person I would want to talk to."

Tyler was sitting at a chair in the lounge with his groany face.

"Err…why would you say that?"

"It seems everyone here is such a hardass. Especially you, Iron Vixen."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean everybody here could kick ass if they needed to: I mean, Sidney and Greg were both boxers, you're a former cop, Derek is turning into Arnold Schwarzenegger, Angie has a black belt in aikido, and Victor just totally kicked my ass."

Cybil laughed out loud.

"You serious? Did he seriously give you the business?"

Tyler nodded.

"Well, he showed me the book some time ago and told me how he was looking for someone to use it on…never thought he would have actually given you the spanking. I thought he valued keeping his job more."

Tyler groaned. "Oh, thanks Cybil. That really makes me feel great. Here I am wondering how to defend myself, and you're talking about it like it's some sort of slash story. And why would I make Victor lose his job anyway, just for giving me the lowdown?"

Cybil stopped, seeing that Tyler was actually genuinely distraught. It was actually a pretty pitiful sight.

"Here, let me get you something."

She hurried back to her office, picking up a business card, then returning to the lounge.

"Here, Tyler. It's for a pretty good Tai Chi place not too far from where you live. They have some pretty good instructors…you'll do fine. Just remember to stick to it."

* * *

**At the Tai Chi Center…**

It was a pretty neat and orderly place. White walls and blue mats, just as you would expect. Tyler had enrolled in the beginning class that took place very early in the morning; he couldn't fit it any other time into his schedule. He hoped it was worth it.

"Man…so many old people…"

"Well, it is a very relaxing, healthy sport. What would you expect?"

Tyler turned around and saw that it was…Dr. Hoffman. Jaw dropping, he tried to speak but could hardly make a noise in the first place.

"Imagine how surprised I was when I saw Tyler Chase on my class roster. It's going to be a fun class. Tyler? Tyler!"

Tyler was sprawled out on the floor, half from feeling very faint, and half from his own exaggeration.

"Ohh….brother…"

"Oh, don't worry Tyler. It's stressed people like you who need Tai Chi. Come on…"


End file.
